Kidnapped
by napoleonbean
Summary: Jeeves and Wooster. Bertie and Jeeves are kidnapped. A bit slashy.


Title: Kidnapped

Disclaimer: I don't own them. And I won't in the probable future, either.

A/N: I was rereading Suki, by CLAMP, and the girl reminded me of Bertie. Especially the lacking in common sense part. And I thought that it would probably be pathetically easy to kidnap Bertie, and then my brain spit this out. Anyway, read and review!

The whole ordeal started with lunch at the Drones. It was a typical lunch, with much youthful cheer and throwing of rolls. Said youthful c. lasted well into the afternoon, and by the time I realized I should be heading for home, I was more than a little tight.

Nevertheless, I had Rodgers fetch my coat and hat, and left the club, intending to have a bit of a walk about before heading home to the humble abode. It was while on this stroll that a decidedly rummy thing happened. I had not gone ten steps, when, out of the nearly thin air, appeared a sharp-dressed gentleman in a frightful hurry. What's more, he seemed to desire a word with me.

"Your man Jeeves is ill," said the s. d. gentleman, "You're needed urgently. You must come at once." Naturally, I believed him. The Woosters were ever a trusting breed, and if something was wrong with Jeeves, well, my place was at his bedside, soothing his fevered brow, as they say. Besides, the man was _entirely_ out of breath. Anybody could see he'd run all the way to get me. I spared not one thought for the fact that I did not know the man. I assumed that he was a friend of Jeeves'. Ah, how fools rush in.

I accompanied the gentleman to the car he had waiting. I remembered this struck me as strange, the old bean seeming to recall something about running to get me, but I passed it off. We started out in the direction of my flat, but soon veered off course. I remember objecting, quite forcefully, I may add, but it did me not one bit of good. I was sunk. The last thing I remember before waking in a very dark, and rather smelly room was being held down by the gentleman I had previously thought of as sharp-dressed and helpful, and being made to sniff an extremely foul smelling cloth.

When I awoke, there was a foul taste in my mouth, and I greatly wished for some of Jeeves' restorative mixture. I was in a d. and s. room, and, to my surprise, Jeeves was there! "They've got you too, old bean?" were my first words upon waking, after looking around with my mouth hanging open in a way that, I am told, makes me look frightfully dim. "This _is_ bad."

"Indeed, sir. I am given to understand that I was something of a contingency plan, as they say, in the event that they failed to capture you."

"It's all looking rather thick, Jeeves. The hour is dark. We have been kidnapped! For all I know, they may have sent the ransom note already!"

"They have, sir. Much has happened while you were indisposed."

"I'll say, Jeeves! Much has happened, indeed!"

After waking, perhaps a day passed before anything else significant happened. I say perhaps a day, because there was no real way of knowing how long it actually was. There were no windows in our cell, and it was too dark to read our watches.

There wasn't much to do in that time. I fancy both Jeeves and myself took several naps. We talked a bit, and I sang a few of my more favorite songs, to give our spirits a bit of a lift. One thing that strikes me as being quite rummy is that people often talk about the horror of kidnapping. I didn't feel much horror, only a lot of boredom. Perhaps I was lucky in that respect.

Anyway, about a day had gone by, when the door, previously bolted tight, swung open, and two toughs stepped in. I did not for a moment think that they were the masterminds behind this scheme, for one thing, they did not look at all like the man who had lured me into the car, and, for another thing, they had v. much the look of hired muscle.

"We need proof of your mistreatment, mister," said one of the toughs, while the other gave a little laugh. I must say I resented that snigger, just a bit. What right did he have to laugh at us in our extremity? Then I took another look at the sheer _muscle_ and decided that a specimen such as this could laugh whenever he wanted. His biceps were the size of my thighs! Or very nearly, anyway.

I fear, however, that while following this train of thought to its conclusion, I had rather forgotten to listen to what the chap was saying. "What?" said I.

"Your family is being a little reluctant to pay the ransom. They merely need some… encouragement." Here, I am afraid, the Wooster intellect let me down. Jeeves caught on before I did. It's the fish, I always say. Never have cared for the stuff.

"If I may be so bold, sirs," said Jeeves, addressing our captors, "Perhaps you could use me instead? As I see it, it matters not who is in your photographs, but merely that you have them. Also, Mrs. Travers places a great deal of value on my well being."

"Jeeves," said I, my lagging brain finally catching up, "You can't!"

"On the contrary, sir, I believe I can." He turned to leave with the toughs, one of whom had resumed chuckling in an unpleasant manner. "Come, gentlemen." He left.

Anger seethed within my bosom, and not a little worry. There are times when a graphic imagination is more a curse than a blessing. Said g. i. was not helped by my usual reading fodder of crime novels and murder mysteries. I was, I felt, far too aware of the black underbelly of the human spirit to be comfortable with Jeeves going off to an unknown fate at the hands of our captors. However, I did not a thing to stop the large, mean, and above all, extremely strong looking chaps from escorting him out of our cell.

"Now, you may say, Bertram! How could you let him go like that, taking your place as the proverbial whipping boy? And how, indeed! I must say, I felt a disgusting black mark on the Wooster name, much as my Aunt Agatha thinks. It was this topic I brought up, after what seemed hours of worry, fear, and general self loathing, when Jeeves returned, a little worse for wear.

"Jeeves, you look a right mess!"

"Only superficial injuries, I can assure you, sir."

"They've broken your nose! That had to hurt!"

"No more than the first time, sir."

"And don't I feel the chump, letting them go off and treat you like a punching bag without any fight whatsoever!"

"Well, sir, discretion is the better part of valor, as they say."

"D. the better part of v., eh? Sound like an excuse for cowardice, if you ask me, Jeeves."

"Some do see it so, sir. However, I am glad that you did not endeavor to resist. I fear you would have been hurt rather badly, sir."

There was another issue, which had been weighing on my mind, which I then brought up. I dealt with it carefully, as it involved the feudal spirit, and Jeeves can be quite touchy about things he considers improper. "Jeeves, I've been meaning to talk to you about something."

"What's that, sir?"

"We're in a small, dark, and none too fresh room, together, in the hands of merciless captors, with no visible means of escape," here I was interrupted, albeit politely.

"If I may venture the opinion, sir, the reason there are no _visible_ means of escape is because the room is dark."

"Pish, Jeeves. Pish, I say. You are fretting at inconsequentials. What I mean is, we are sharing an ordeal that we very well may not get out of. I know that the feudal spirit and all is rather important to you, but, well, could we dispense with the 'sir'? Just for now?"

"Indeed, Mr. Wooster."

"Dash it all, Jeeves, call me Bertie for once, will you?"

"Yes, Bertie." Even in these circumstances, hearing my name upon his lips caused a not unforeseen flutter in the area of the Wooster heart, the likes of which would not have been out of place in the narration of one of Mrs. Bingo's novels. I was overcome with emotion, which, I believe, had been building up ever since Jeeves had left with the two rough chaps, some time earlier. I must say, with some embarrassment, that, perhaps because of the circs., I embraced him. Rather more warmly than befits an employer and employee, or a pair of friends, even.

After holding him close for a time, his arms came up around me. My moment of weakness not yet through, I gave a bit of a shudder, as if releasing tension, and relaxed against his shoulder. I do fancy, however, that I kept from sobbing. Jeeves spoke after a moment. "I should not worry overly much, Bertie. I took the liberty of sending a friend a telegram before I was captured, as I had a good idea it would happen, and had seen men following us for the past few days. If we are not returned by tomorrow, so that I may send another telegram stopping him, he will send a telegram informing the police of our probable location, as well as the instigator and participants in this venture."

"I say, Jeeves! Jolly good!" I mean really, that man is a marvel. It's the fish, I tell you. They feed the gray matter like you wouldn't believe.

It was a few weeks before the subject of our ordeal and my more than friendly actions came up in conversation at the Wooster residence. It was I who brought it up. I had been sensing no little tension between Jeeves and myself lately, and put it down to the fact that he was uncomfortable with the closeness I had required while we were in captivity.

"Jeeves," said I, "I have noticed the tension. If you are upset about anything I did, put it from your mind. Emotions were running high, and a man cannot be held responsible for his actions under those circumstances."

"Indeed, sir," said he, though I saw a brief flash of disappointment before Jeeves' face resumed its characteristic sangfroid. I didn't act on this revelation until after dinner, not wanting to spoil my appetite if I turned out to be wrong.

"Jeeves," I said, "Do you think you could call me Bertie again?"

"I could, sir."

"But would you, Jeeves?" said I, willing him to understand, "Will you?"

"Yes, Bertie, I will," said Jeeves with a rare smile. I smiled too, and looked up at him. My flat felt like the castle they so often compare a man's home to. All was bally well _right_ with the world.


End file.
